Animal Love
by All-For-You-Sophia
Summary: Set three years before Fright Night, Peter Vincent is busy working on his Las Vegas show when he is confronted with a problem. How to keep his business afloat when he falls for the only girl who can help him save it. Peter/O.C.
1. New Job Disaster

Elaine stopped outside the tall menacing building and looked up. The mid-day sun glinted off the windows of the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino. "You can do this," she chanted to herself under her breath as she closed her eyes. "You. Can. Do. This." She let out a soft sigh and opened her eyes and went in the building.

It was her first day at her new job and she was nervous as hell. She had worked at a local talent agency for years, and she was good at her job; as an underling who worked in the office only. Recently she had gotten promoted and she was fine with all that until her boss decided her skills would best be used in personal managing. It did mean more money, which her wardrobe would like, but also more stress.

Her first client: renowned showman Peter Vincent. No, she didn't know anything about him but that wasn't the point. He was proper famous. Well, she had seen his posters around town for years promoting his show: Fright Night. That was big enough for her. She had only ever worked with people she had no idea who they were, which made the job easy. Peter Vincent was in his late thirties and been in the business for years. He certainly would know what he's doing and see that she had no clue how to do her job. Why couldn't they have assigned her some teenybopper pop star or someone in their early twenties? At least someone who didn't know what they were doing so she could learn how to do the job while propelling them to the top. How was she ever meant to handle someone who already had a thriving career when she didn't know the first thing about bookings and personal meetings?

She was told to meet Peter on the set of his show at 2:30, and she had a room number and the name of his head assistant to speak to. Trouble was she had no idea where to go in the bustling hotel. She felt utterly ashamed when she asked the front desk and even more when her stilettos slid on the slick floor and she fell dropping all her folders. She gathered her things quickly and tried not to look back as she scurried away towards the direction the receptionist pointed.

After a few more wrong turns she ended up in a darkened theater. No one was in the audience as this was rehearsal, but that didn't lessen the action on the stage. Some scantily clad women with fangs were attacking a group of men in leather. There was a lot of smoke and screaming and hissing. Maybe this was why she had never bothered to come see the Fight Night show. Vampires really weren't her thing at the best of times, and she really didn't call this entertainment.

She made her way silently towards backstage as the action on stage continued. Eventually someone yelled cut and the ominous music stopped and some more lights flickered on which defiantly helped her to find her way. Everyone was hustling by her and paid her no notice, even when she tried to stop them to ask for direction.

She began to get flustered in the bustle of people so she went and stood off to the side and tried to catch her breath. "Are you supposed to be here?" A gruff voice said from beside her. She jumped a little as she looked over at the older man with graying hair and blue jumpsuit who climbed up onto a short ladder and began dismantling a light.

"Um… Yeah. I'm Peter Vincent's new manager." The man looked at her as if he was less than interested in her tale.

"Who are you supposed to be meeting here?"

"Peter Vincent?"

"No…" He said sternly shaking his head without another word.

"Um… Oh!" She said reaching into her coat pocket and pulling out the slip of paper she had written the head assistants contact information on. "Is Ashley Learman here?"

"There." The man said pointing further backstage at a table that had a few lights shinning on it with a few people mulling about it.

"Um, thank…" When she looked back the man was gone and scurrying off with the light he had unhooked. "…you."

This place was a mad house, defiantly. She was sent to work in a mad house. She took another deep breath and approached the lit up table. The table held a variant of things, mostly papers and half empty coffee cups. Men mostly surrounded the table except one woman who only wore a very short black robe. Well, the lighting man did say that Ashley was at this table. She slowly reached out and tapped the woman on the shoulder who turned around quickly, scoffing and giving her an angry look. "Can I help you?"

"Um… Are you Ashley Learman?" The woman began laughing harshly and then said something she knew was less than kind in Spanish before walking away making her feel foolish.

"Excuse me," said a male voice from behind her and she turned to come face to face with a man who was an inch or two shorter than her with soft thinning brown hair. His face was round and genuinely kind but his face had no hint of a smile. "Are you from the agency?" He asked raising his eyebrow at her.

"Yes, I'm Elaine Hawthorne." She said extending her hand, which he did not take. Instead he sighed loudly.

"I told them to send a man. This is not good, this is not good." He said the last more to himself than to her.

"Is there a problem?"

"Yes there is." He answered bluntly and she couldn't help but scoff.

"Are you sexist or something?"

"Not at all."

"Is Mr. Vincent then?"

"No. Peter loves women, if not too much. That's why I asked for a man."

"Um, okay." She said, not really following.

"Anyways, I'm Ashley. I spoke to your boss yesterday."

"You're Ashley?"

"Yes?" He asked giving her an intense look as if her commenting on his name was the worst thing she could do.

"Um… Nothing." She said shyly as he broke into a large smile.

"No problem. I get that a lot. I've just learned to live with it. So I am Peter's head assistant. There are plenty of other assistants but he hates all of them and knows none of their names and fires them regularly. Therefore if you ever need anything about Peter you come to me."

"Why wouldn't I just ask Mr. Vincent?"

"If you ask Peter you will be fired. If you want to keep your job you will just do the things he tells you to do. If you need clarification, come to me."

"So he's demanding?"

"Demanding doesn't begin to cover it. I'm not really afraid to say that our boss is a diva. I've been working with him over two years and he was rather bad when I began but he's even worse now. He's learned over the years his fame gives him power and the power to boss people around. He's set in his ways and he likes what he likes and his temper is very short. He is an angry person, and its sad to say but you will need to tip toe around him. He doesn't know you yet, so he has no reason to listen to anything you say."

"If he doesn't want to listen to anything I say, then why does he even want a manager?"

"Because he desperately needs one. Come here," he said motioning to a deserted corner back stage that was very much darker. She followed him and he lowered his voice when he spoke again. "Peter will never say it, but he needs help right now. The show is failing, not for lack of audience, but because Peter is a bad business man. He needs someone to set him right or he's going to loose the whole show. I'll get you all the records tomorrow and expenditures and account numbers and such. It's going to be very hard, but it's your job to get him on the right path. It will be hard and Peter will not want to work with you because his head is bigger than the building, but you have to try. Honestly, I don't know how many more managers we can go through. Now don't repeat that to anyone." He said sternly and she nodded. "Alright. Peter will be down in a few. Greet him, try and go along with his antics. Schedule a meeting for later in the week with him. I will try and make time to coach you before then, we'll see. I have things to take care of some things, just wait around until Peter shows up." And just like that, the little man named Ashley was gone.

"Ookay…" She muttered trying to make sense of all the things she was just told about her new boss. If she was nervous before about not being able to do this job, she was assured now she couldn't do this job. How was she ever meant to please and unappeasable boss. Unappeasable and in a sinking ship. First day and already the odds were against her. She was starting to feel hot around the collar as she started to hyperventilate. "Calm down, clam down." She whispered to herself, wringing the strap of her purse in her hands as she tried to control her emotions. She wasn't ready for this, not at all. What was her boss thinking by sending her here? Either way she was here and had to deal with it. She took a deep breath and tried to reassure herself that worst thing that could happen was he fired her. Plus his career was already failing. Nowhere to go but up, right?

She had nothing to do but wait for the man himself. So she stood around and tried her best to keep out of other people's way as she waited. When Peter finally arrived there was no missing him or mistaking him for someone else. He stumbled onto the soundstage with a specific drunken swagger and began yelling orders at nearly everyone. She didn't know what he was so angry about, but he kept yelling profanities as he ordered people about, shouting things like 'I'm sick of fucking waiting on you people.' Even though he had just arrived. Or, 'no, I don't want a fucking read through, I want to get this fucking thing over with.' Or her personal favorite, 'Ashley! Where the fuck is my iced coffee.'

He looked exactly like his Fright Night posters. Clad head to foot in black. Long grimy black hair, dark goatee and mustache, and an eyebrow pricing above his left eye. His long leather coat was opened to show off his bare chest and silver necklaces and chest and neck tattoos. She wasn't sure if he looked more like Chris Angel or Russell Brand. Either way he wasn't anything that she found attractive about a man, but that didn't make her any less nervous about approaching him. If anything his gothic appearance and boisterous attitude scared her more than managing Brad Pitt would.

Nevertheless he was her job now and so she had to speak to him. She had no idea how to approach him and deep down she really didn't want to, so she slowly edged out of the darkness and followed his movements around the stage, never getting more than ten feet close to him.

"Ashley!" Peter yelled again and Ashley showed up nearly immediately at his side with a cup of coffee. "Took you long enough, fucking hell, Ash."

She was on the edge of deciding to speak to him after rehearsal, trying to convince herself he might be less surly then when the worst happened. Ashley noticed her standing there and motioned behind Peter's back for her to come forwards. She gave him a worried look and he motioned her forwards more aggressively.

She approached tentatively as Peter looked over a script someone had put in his hands. Her heart beat quickly and when she was finally by his side all she could get out was soft, "Mr. Vincent?"

Even though she was quiet his head immediately whipped in her direction with his patent surely expression. As soon as he laid eyes on her his expression softened and his eyes roamed her body without inhibition. "Hello." He said in a husky voice, his eyes finally meeting hers after spending quite some time down her blouse.

"Peter," Ashley said stepping in, knowing how nervous she was. "This is Elaine, your new manager."

"My new manager?" He asked his eyes lighting up in a mischievous way accompanied by a dirty smile. "How exciting." Without asking he took up her hand and brought it towards his face. "Enchanté," he said kissing the back of her hand sensually. Although it should have been a charming gesture, it creeped her out. She just didn't like the way he looked at her, like he wanted to devour her.

"It's so nice to finally meet you." She said although she really didn't know why. Perhaps it was for lack of anything else to say to this intimidating man.

"Isn't it though?" He asked with a smirk. God, how did people work for this man. She hadn't known him but two minutes and she already wanted to slap him.

"When... when would you like to schedule our first meeting?"

"I don't know, later in the week. Ask me later, sugar. Daddy's due on set." He said pinching her cheek lightly and waltzing off towards the stage, barking orders at the director and supporting artists to hurry the fuck up.

She stood there with her mouth hanging open. She couldn't do this. How could she possible work for a man like that who had no respect for his employees. No he hadn't sworn at her yet, but she suspected he would before the end of the day. She also didn't appreciate him putting his hands on her, and calling her sugar. Also, what the hell was up with calling himself daddy? If that wasn't sexually suggestive, she didn't know what was.

She slowly turned to Ashley who still stood beside her and he held up one finger to her, a gesture to be silent as he spoke first. "I will apologize for him, since he never will."

"What the fuck?"

"I told you before, he likes women, thus why I was hoping you'd be a man. He doesn't grope men, he just yells at them."

"I can't work here."

"Oh come on, you've been here twenty minutes. Please, just give it a chance. I'll do what I can to help you out."

Suddenly there was a loud clamor towards the set and they looked to see Peter yelling at his make-up artist who apparently moments before was trying to give Peter one last touch up before he went on set, and he had promptly knocked her pallet out of her hands and set it flying to the floor before he let out a stream of curses at her.

She looked back into Ashley's eyes and he sighed and gave her a begging look. "I have to go deal with this. Please don't leave." She wanted to say more, stop him, call him back and say she couldn't do it, but he was already gone.

She had absolutely nothing to do but wait around and see if Peter would ever want to schedule a meeting. She was a bit fed up with waiting around so scared of everyone else, so she found a chair backstage and sat down on it and just watched as everyone else scurried around, busy now that Peter was here.

She couldn't see what was going on the front of the stage but it was rather loud whatever was happening. She could hear the muffled yells of Peter as he raved about whatever was currently making him mad as all hell and then something else crashing. This man was a wreck, and somehow fate had decided it was her job to set him straight. He needed someone to set him straight, that was for sure. She just didn't know if she could help him. A part of her wanted to, but an even bigger part told her to steer clear of the whole matter. Peter Vincent wasn't her problem. If she got involved would it all be peaches and cream or would he take her down with him?

Eventually Peter settled down and actually began doing his job and rehearsing. Everything was quiet backstage now as the action continued on the stage. There was a lot of loud music, clouds of smoke rolled off the stage and disappeared in whiffs. Part of her wished she was in the audience, just so she could see what was going on instead of listening to it. To listen to it all there was just so much mystery; like who was that that was screaming, or hissing, and why did she hear the licking of flames.

She imagined damsels in distress and Peter, the gothic hero coming to their rescue. Partly she compiled the scene from imagination and sounds, but also from the old Fright Night promos she saw on TV too long ago to remember properly. She was deep in her imagination when someone tapped her shoulder. She nearly screamed but she remembered where she was and caught it in her throat before she disrupted the number of quiet people around her.

She must have jumped at the touch though because Ashley moved into her line of vision and whispered, "sorry. Here." He said handing her a large manila envelope. "These are shorthand records for you to look over. Give you something to do, and it's a general representation of our situation. All the other records are in my office. I can get you whatever else you want by tomorrow.

"Oh thanks," she said, finally glad at something to do.

Since backstage was dark she went back to one of the work tables that had a singular light shinning upon it and pulled up a folding chair. She began looking through the documents and the longer rehearsal went on the more pages she flipped through and came to a greater realization of just how much shit Peter was in, and because she was expected to dig him out, her too.

Apparently it wasn't just rumor, but he did fire quiet a lot of people. Far too many for the business to run well. It seemed like it was only Ashley whom had been around longer than six months. Peter had a tendency to throw money around like it grew on trees and had at least two sexual harassment lawsuits that he only just managed to get acquitted.

Jesus...

She had no idea where to even begin patching his life up. He was going to need a lot more than her if this was all going to work. Perhaps she would ask her boss for some counseling tomorrow. Hey, maybe her boss would realize this case was too much for her and pass it off to someone else!

She looked up as Peter came stumbling off the set, looking angry. That silver lining didn't last long, for while it was a good idea and might still work she still had to get the devil to schedule a meeting with her before the day was out. Well, she thought as she closed the confidential folder and put in her bag, there was no time like the present.

Without fear she marched over to the man himself, "we need to schedule that meeting now." She demanded of him, feeling proud to just get the words out without nerves getting in the way for once.

"Later babes," he said putting his hand out to her, gesturing for her to go away without looking at her then strolling right by her.

"Excuse me, Mr. Vincent." She said following, feeling angry at being ignored and pushed aside so casually. "We need to schedule this meeting." He turned to her, his eyes flashing with anger at being challenged.

"I will talk to you about it later. Now fuck off."

She stormed off in such a huff even Peter with his giant stick up his ass turned to look as she went back across the room. She didn't really know what she was doing, she was so angry about her entire situation. In her rage she found herself at a back table that was littered with random papers. Scripts that had gone askew, blank contract papers, forms, manuals. Why was everything in Peter's life one huge mess?

Since apparently no one else in this entire building could do their job properly she began stacking the papers according to category. Her OCD was kicking in and meticulously arranging things helped her to calm down. Soon much time had flown by but the table looked much better, except for a few stray pieces she had to reach to retrieve. She might not have been of much help so far, but at least she had made a pea-sized dent of difference. If she whittled away like this maybe in a year things would start to look different around here.

She reached across the table trying to gather some papers. That's when she felt the pressure of a hand on the small of her back. "Here, let me help you." A familiar voice said and when she looked over Peter reached all the way across the table with ease and picked up the paper she was starching for.

"Thank you," she said nervously, wondering why he was being so kind all of a sudden.

"Not a problem. I always try to help women in need." She smiled at this. Perhaps he wasn't so bad after all. "Although I didn't mind the view of you bent over the table." Her mouth would have dropped open if she wasn't quiet so frozen in place. "Maybe you can give me a little private showing later when we go over business." He said and she felt his hand snake lower on her back and he punctuated his statement by squeezing her ass.

This time she reanimated herself quickly and pushed his hand off of her. "Mr. Vincent, please keep your hands off me."

"Please, call me Peter."

"Well then Peter," she spat, "please keep your fucking hands off me. I'm your manager, not your whore."

"Ooh? Playing hard to get? You know I like that too." He said with a smile and she scoffed loudly and walked away from him leaving him calling after her. "Where are you going? Ellie!"

Peter didn't follow her, thank God. She stormed the backstage in a huff until she found Ashley. "I quit!" She said announcing her resignation before she even got his attention.

"What?" He asked as she drug through her bag for the file he had given her earlier.

"Here." She said shoving the folder into his hands and beginning to march off.

"You can't just quit, wait… What happened?"

"What do you think happened? Peter. I can't work here, I'm sorry. You'll just have to find someone else."

With that she found the nearest exit and left, having to stop immediately as the bight casino lights took her off guard. She had spent far too much time in that dark theater. When she got her bearings she marched off again, and she had gotten pretty far through the casino until she realized that she needed to tell her boss what had happened.

She didn't want to make the call, she really wanted to put it off as long as she possibly could, but she knew that wasn't a good idea. It was best she told her boss what had happened rather than let Peter make the call. At least this way she could minimize the damage and try not to get herself fired.

She found a relatively empty hallway and dialed her bosses extinction, not wanting to hassle about with the office number and three transfers. She had been given the extinction for emergencies only. Well, this was a pretty bid issue she was sure her boss, Janie Falco would want to hear about asap.

"Limelight managing, Janie Falco."

"Janie, it's Elaine."

"Elaine? What's wrong?" Was her hurt really that apparent in her voice. "Shouldn't you be working with Mr. Vincent today?"

"That's the whole problem. I quit."

"You quit!"

"I refuse to work with that man!"

"Why? What the hell has gotten into you?"

"Is it your kind of sick little joke even sending me out here? The mans a psycho! He's a womanizer and a demanding bastard. I've never ever heard of someone so unreasonable."

"Yes I heard he was difficult, but I promoted you for a reason. Did I make a mistake?"

"No, but it's my first client, why did you have to get me him, possible the worst man to work for in the whole city? What were you thinking by sending me here?" She asked heatedly, almost on the verge of tears.

"We didn't have anyone else immediately available. I thought you could handle it."

"Well I can't. I refuse to work with that perverted brute." Her boss sighed.

"Well, you just lost us a big deal. Mr. Vincent was going to pay a lot of money for your service."

"Are you saying I'm fired?"

"No… you get one more chance. You've made us a lot of money in the past. Besides, the deal might not be a total wreck. I'll have to call Mr. Vincent's people and see if we can still salvage the deal by sending him someone else. Until further notice though you're back in the office."

"I'm demoted?"

"Yes. Your lucky I like you, otherwise you would be fired. Now I expect you in the office first thing tomorrow morning. You hear me?"

"Yes." The phone went dead in her ear just as she began crying. She had spent years trying to get that promotion and now it was all gone in a single afternoon. She was so disappointed in herself she didn't know what to do. How many more years was it going to take her to rise up again? Or would she just be fired in another month or so and be left with rent she can't pay and a boss who wont give her a recommendation.

One thing she knew for sure was that she hated Peter Vincent.

"You, you, and you." Peter said loudly. "Fuck off." He stopped around the set making everyone scatter. He would have smiled but his surly disposition got in the way of that, just as it had for years. God he needed a drink. Where the fuck was Ashley? "Ashley!" He barked and the tubby balding man was immediately by his side. This was why he was first assistant. "There you are, finally…" he tacked on, wanting something to nit pick even if there was nothing. "I'm leaving for the day. I am fucking tired of working with these people."

"Alright everyone, that's a wrap!" Ashley called to the whole set and everyone that had been milling about began moving quickly, ready to leave. "Same time tomorrow everyone!"

"Ashley." He said getting the man's attention again. "Where the fuck is that Ellie girl? I want to make an appointment with her. I want to revamp my whole staff. I can't work with such fucking amateurs any -"

"She quit." Ashley said simply, approaching the props table and beginning to organize things.

"What?!"

"She quit. Fire spurted?" Ashley asked holding out his hand and Peter pulled the metal device out of his sleeve.

"What do you mean she quit?" He asked screwing his face up as he tried to comprehend the words. People on his team didn't quit, he fired them. That's how things worked around here.

"She quit, over a half hour ago. Way to go boss. That's a new record. I'll phone the agency, but I doubt I'll be able to get anyone to you until tomorrow at the earliest. Dagger of Doom." He began fishing around in his pockets for the little devil.

"This is unacceptable."

"I can't make the agency move any faster, you know I…"

"No, no, no. Not that. How could she quit?" He said handing off the dagger.

"Who quit?" Ginger said wrapping her arms around him from behind in a playful embrace. She was his latest bedroom muse, but he had no feelings for her. She was just another conquest he would throw away when he got bored and a flashier skirt walked by. He just didn't know if she knew it.

"Elaine." Ashley answered.

"Who?"

"The new manager."

"Well, good riddance I say. She was such a little…"

"Will you get the fuck off me!" He said angrily pushing her off him. He was frustrated and the last thing he needed was her clingy gossip.

"Someone's grumpy." She said teasingly as she walked away in a huff.

"What do you mean she quit?" He asked Ashley again sternly.

"What do you want me to say?" He asked as he began putting most of the props table away in a box.

"I mean its day one, what happened? Or is she really that incompetent?"

"Do I really have to explain it to you?"

"Apparently, yes."

"Look," Ashley said stopping and turning to him. "You made your last four managers cry before you fired them, and they were all men."

"Are you saying she quit because of me?"

"Yes." He said going back to packing up.

"This is unacceptable."

"I'll make sure the next one is better. I'll get on the phone with the agency…"

"No."

"No?" He asked stopping and looking at him curiously as Peter began to take off his jewelry, popping off his fake eyebrow ring.

"I'm going to have a talk with her. I'll get her to changer her mind."

"I'll get you her phone number."

"Don't bother, I'm going to go talk to her in person."

"How? Are you going to go to the agency?"

"Don't be so boring. Where do most people go when they quit?" He asked enigmatically as he simply walked away.


	2. Business Over Cocktails

Elaine sat slumped at the Hard Rock bar, and empty tumbler in her hand. She wasn't one to quit, or drink, but she had never felt so humiliated in her whole life. She was beginning to blame herself for the whole situation. She shouldn't have let Peter bother her so deeply. So what if the drunken grungy pale imitation of Chris Angel was hitting on her? She should have just let it go in the sake of her job and figured out another way to deal with it all.

Now she was starring into the bottom of an empty glass sort of missing the pink frothy liquid that was once there. She fished the cherry out of the bottom and bit on it and let the sweet wash away the bitter of the alcohol still lingering on her tongue. The bartender approached her as she played mindlessly with the glass. "Another?" He asked kindly.

"No, thanks." She said waving him away. He shouldn't tempt her, of course she wanted another, but she had already had three and very very soon her income was going to become tightened. She needed to learn quickly how to be frugal because she wouldn't put it past her boss to fire her very soon. So this was her last hurrah, a few good drinks gone, and the lonely cab ride home.

She didn't want to move and face the night that had descended as she sat in the indoor bar and downed every drink as slowly as she could to prolong her money, because these drinks were crazy expensive.

"Hi," said a heady deep voice from beside her which pulled her out of her stupor and forced her to look over a tall devastatingly handsome man who had somehow materialized beside her. His smile was the first thing she noticed, large and filled out most of his face and showed off a lovely set of pearly whites. His nose was rather large but it was offset by the rest of his features, mainly his bright chocolate eyes and fluffy brown hair. His hair transfixed her, it was very shiny and silky looking. She supposed most of its allure came from the fact that even though it was brushed it refused to keep its shape and laid at its own natural angle.

She was so enamored by his looks that she almost forgot herself and it took longer than she was proud of to mutter a shy, "hello," under her breath as she brushed the hair out of her face which revealed her blushing cheeks.

"Can I buy you a drink?" He asked politely.

"Yeah sure." She said happy not only for an excuse to stay in the bar longer and a free drink, but because the offer came from such a handsome fellow.

"What's your poison?" It was then she finally recognized the accent in his voice which triggered a deja vu. Why was his voice so familiar?

"Cosmo." He smiled and turned away from her to order their drinks. Meanwhile she used his distraction to take in the rest of his visage. He certainly liked the color black as he was donned head to foot in it. He wore a deep cut v-neck t-shirt beneath his jacket which revealed a little chest hair under his silver cross necklace. As the bartender mixed up their drinks the mysterious man kept giving her coy smiles from down the bar which she returned shyly. By the time he returned and handed her the drink she had given up on trying to figure out the deja vu moment. She had just chocked it up to all the BBC America commercials that were on TV lately.

"Here you go. I feel like I always knew you were a Cosmo drinker."

"Oh really? How come?"

"You just look like a pink lover."

"I am!" She said with a wide smile.

"I thought I would find you here. How are you feeling?" He asked looking at her concerned and her smile fell away.

"Um, okay..." She said her eyebrow raising. He talked very strange, as if he knew her, but he was a total stranger to her.

"Are you sure? You kind of bolted earlier, didn't even say goodbye. Hurt my feelings a bit I had to find out from Ashley you had gone."

"Excuse me?" Who the hell was he? He spoke like he had seen her earlier, but she hadn't seen anyone on set that resembled him.

"I'm talking about earlier when you quit and stormed off set, or have you drank so much you've forgotten?" His voice when from a deeper register to rising as he smiled at the end of his sentence.

"Do you work for Peter? Has he sent you here after me?" That was the only reasonable explanation. Was he the producer, director, some underling who ran errands? The mystery was beginning to scare her as he spoke with intimate knowledge of her.

"Are you kidding?" She looked at him blankly. "You seriously don't recognize me?"

"Should I?" He laughed coyly.

"My makeup team should be congratulated then. I'm your boss, well, ex boss. Peter." He finally said having to spell it out for her.

"Oh my gosh..." She gasped as what triggered her deja vu returned but this time she placed him within the context of her life. The only thing similar between this man and the one she had met earlier was his deep sensual voice and piecing brown eyes.

She took a moment trying to compare the two men and force herself to believe they were the same person. How could that grungy swaggering swearing man turn into this handsome normal looking fellow? "But... Where did your long hair go? And facial hair, tats and pricings?"

"It's all an illusion. Do you really think I would willingly choose to look like that every day of my life? Come on. I actually somewhat hate the look, but some artistic designer of my earlier shows thought it would be a good idea, to get an audience. Well, it worked and now I have to suffer an hour of makeup every morning before the show and rehearsals. I especially hate those fucking fake tattoos. I hate scrubbing the bastards off, and it wastes perfectly good alcohol to do it too."

"You could use some nail polish remover."

"I'm not a girl, I don't just have that lying about."

"No, I mean you really could use some nail polish remover," she said pointing at his fingernails, which she just noticed were still mostly black from his performance earlier.

"I can live with it."

"They look dirty."

"So what?"

"That's unhygienic."

"Anyways… I came down here because I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for the way I acted earlier."

"Did someone put you up to this? Is it Ashley?"

"No. I wanted to come down here to see you because, well, I felt really bad for how I treated you."

"Didn't stop you from doing it though did it?"

"I know and I'm sorry about that. I didn't even know how bad it was until Ashley pointed it out to me after you had gone. I guess I didn't realize how big of a prick I was being. There really is no excuse for it, or me. And it's not just today, it seems like I've been cocking my life up for awhile now and honestly I don't know how to turn it all around anymore. So that's why I'm here."

"What do you expect me to do for you?"

"Well, I came here to ask if you would take your job back. It's been months since I've actually had a manager who's lasted more than a week and it's made my entire career one huge shit pile. Nothing is organized and Ashley isn't enough to run everything as much as he'd like to think so."

"Why don't you just hire someone else?"

"Look," he said putting his hand to his head as he sighed in frustration. "I haven't got time for that, okay? Honestly I don't. If you haven't noticed by now I don't work well with people, and it takes a long time to find a good manager. Yes I could get another idiot in by tomorrow that won't last out the week. I need someone I can work with, and to be honest, I like you." A part of her lip up as he said this although she didn't know why. She didn't have time to think about it though as his next sentence diminished it anyways. "I feel like I could work well with you. You don't follow me around asking me stupid questions and you don't fangirl over me like an idiot. I kind of like how removed you are with your knowledge of me, although if your going to work for me that's going to have to change, but I'm sure Ashley has something rigged up, he always does. Honestly I don't know, you seem nice and maybe that's what I really need right now. How the fuck should I know? I just have a feeling if you really leave I might not find someone else before everything goes to shit, and believe me, we are ever so close to that."

She didn't say anything. She didn't really know what to say. She had never been in the position of quitting before, but she knew bosses didn't normally beg their employees to say. In fact she was sure this never happened, so she didn't quite know what to say to him. He was horrible and rude earlier and his career, maybe even entire life, was in shambles and he's sitting here begging her for help. She couldn't handle it earlier, even aside from his attitude problems the entire job screamed it couldn't be done, especially not by her.

Yet his beautiful puppy dog eyes bore into her as he spoke, "listen, I don't normally do this, in fact its really hard for me, but I think its necessary looking at the state of things. I'm asking for your help."

"Mr. Vincent, I..."

"Please, call me Peter."

"Peter, I... I..." She continued to stammer even though he didn't stop her. Her mind was screaming at her to refuse, she had to refuse but the words just wouldn't come out. Why wouldn't they come out?

"Look, you don't have to decide now. Just think about it, and if yes, pick up the files from Ashley and look over them and we can have a meeting on Saturday to talk about your ideas. Please, just think about it."

"Fine, I will think about it." At least she didn't have to decide right now.

"Now, I don't want to talk anymore about business. It's depressing."

"What do you want to talk about instead?"

"You. Tell me, got a boyfriend?"

"Is that really appropriate for a boss to ask one of his employees?"

"I'm not your boss," he said simply plucking the cherry out of her nearly empty glass. She hadn't realized how much she had drank, but she supposed she was apt to drink more under stress. "You quit, remember." He said dramatically biting the cherry.

"I haven't said no to your offer yet."

"But you haven't said yes either."

"Well aren't you cunning?"

"You're avoiding my question."

"If you must know, no."

"Why?"

"Just haven't met anyone I liked."

"I see," he said using the stir stick in his glass to shuffle the ice around his near empty tumbler.

"What about you?"

"What about me what?" He asking downing the last bit of whisky in one.

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"Well isn't that a rather personal question to be asking your boss." He said with a flirtatious smile.

"I haven't said yes to your offer."

"You haven't said no either." He said smiling and they both laughed.

"Yet if I am your future manager, it is my business to know everything about you. The more I know the easier it will be to do my job."

"Well then, little miss manager, I happen to be seeing a few girls at the moment. No one special though." This hit her a little harder than it should have, considering who he was and the fact that they were in the city of sin. She supposed she always liked to think people were more virtuous than they actually were. At least he was honest though.

"A few girls? Not a monogamous guy then?"

"It's been a long time since any woman has held my interest. Besides I can, so why not?"

"Just because you can doesn't mean you should." She said twirling her drinking glass around in her hand and watching the last half sip swish around in the bottom. She just would rather not look at him right now as she contemplated his latest revelation.

"That's what boring people say."

"So I'm boring because I don't cheat on the person I'm in a relationship with?"

"Who said I cheat?"

"So the women you sleep with know they aren't the only ones?"

"Yes, or I think they should at least assume so. Look, its not like I go around telling every girl I sleep with all that mushy shit. I don't romance them, I don't say I love them, or even like them for that matter."

"Don't you miss it though?"

"Miss what?"

"The real thing? Relationships, love..."

"How can I miss what I've never had?"

"Now that's depressing." She said finally downing her last drop of drink.

"That's why man invented liquor."

"How poetic."

"Can I get you another?"

"No, I'm done drinking for the night, I think." She said standing up and fumbling to remove her purse from the back of her chair.

"You going to run out on me?"

"It's getting late."

"It's barely 7:30."

"I'm already drunk." She yanked on her purse and it finally came loose, but the force of her pull made her stumble backwards into Peter, who caught her and forced her up right.

"Steady on. Yes, you are very drunk. If no more drinks, then have dinner with me."

"What?"

"Have dinner with me. Put a little food on that stomach and maybe you won't hail that cab home by falling into it. Come on, sit down. It's on me." He said pushing on her and moving her down back into her chair. Her cheeks felt hot with drink and the room did seem to spin a little when she was standing. Maybe it was best if she ate, and so long if it was on his dime.

Before she had time to really make a decision Peter had waved the bartender over and was ordering. "Ginger ale for this one and a scotch on the rocks for me. And two menu's please."

"You know," she said poking him on the arm so that he would look at her after the waiter had left. "You're not as mean as you pretend to be."

"Your not scared of me anymore?"

"Why should I be afraid of a little boy in big boys clothes?" She was defiantly feeling the alcohol now, and it was defiantly speaking for her now.

"You've gotten cheeky."

"Plus I don't believe your little speech about the women you see. I think your lying."

"Lying about what?"

"I think you do care about them, you just don't want to admit it, that's why you keep so many at hand. That way it's easier to pretend you don't care."

"I never said I don't care, I just don't love any of them. Never have."

"Now that has to be a lie."

"Honestly, I don't believe in love." She laughed at him. "I'm a realist. I've never cared about anyone more than myself. The day I put someone's needs before my own, then I'll say I'm in love."

At that moment the waiter came back with their drinks and menus.

"I still don't believe you."

"Believe whatever you want, tiny."

"One day, you're going to fall in love, and I'll be there with a little song and dance to say I told you so."

"I think I'm going to have the chicken Parmesan for dinner." He said completely ignoring her. She smiled to herself thinking she had one the argument, so she merely let it go and agreed with him.

"I'll have the same."


	3. Yes or No

Elaine passed back and forth in her living room, fiddling with her phone as she went. Should she or shouldn't she? She still couldn't decide.

Last night with Peter was amazing, she felt like she really connected with him over dinner. They talked and talked for hours as he sipped Midouri and they let their food get cold. Things she learned about him; he really liked the theater, he missed England, loved candy, has never been to California and claims he will never go to Alaska, for undisclosed reasons. She told him about how much she missed her home, in California, how much she liked silly American things like bowling and burgers. Then they bonded over bitching about work, past horrid jobs and present ones alike. When it came down to it, she just really liked him. She just didn't know if she could work for him.

A car horn blared outside and she quickly grabbed her phone and her jacket and hurried outside to the cab that awaited to whisk her away to work, where her inevitable decision lay. The entire cab ride there she spent deliberating in her own mind and still had yet to make a decision as the car rolled to a stop outside of her office. She paid the driver and stepped outside and looked up towards the building. She groaned inwardly and walked sullenly up the stairs, through the door and to the elevator and pressed the button for the fifth floor. These were last moments alone before she had to make her final decision.

'He seems really nice.'

'No he's not, he's a jerk, remember?'

'But he's really, really cute.'

'Yes, but he's a disgusting pervert.'

'But he's really, really, really, really cute.'

'So what? He's dreadful and smells like alcohol and curses more than a rap song.'

'Just imagine working for him. Eye candy every day, besides he apologized and bought us dinner.'

'True, but...'

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open and she had to leave her devil and angel in the elevator and walk heavily towards her boss's office. No more time for deliberation, it was time to make a decision.

The door was open but she knocked anyways, announcing her presence. Her boss looked up at her and didn't seem pleased one bit. "There you are. You're five minutes late." She said pushing her bleached blond hair behind her ear where it did not stay because it was so frazzled from many years of coloring.

"Sorry… Cabbie took the long way round and…"

"I don't want to hear it. Sit." Janie motioned with her talon like fingernails, painted in lush red. She didn't want to argue with her boss, so she sat without a word. "Now, what to do with you considering you've lost us a very respectable client and a lot of money in one go. I think it would be best if we let you g…"

"I've changed my mind." She blurted out quickly. Nothing could make a decision faster than the idea of being unemployed.

"Excuse me?" Janie asked, looking offended.

"Um… After I spoke with you last night I ran into Mr. Vincent and we had a talk and he asked me to take the job back, and I excepted." She said with a large fake smile, feeling like a monkey, dancing for her job.

"Well, that's a drastic change of heart. Yesterday you called me raging about him."

"I know, I'm sorry. I overreached. I guess dark theaters do that." She said shrugging her shoulders.

"But I thought you said he was a 'perverted brute'? And let's not forget 'womanizing bastard', that was a good one." Janie said looking at her with her red lips pursed.

"A misunderstanding. Mr. Vincent and I got it all sorted out."

"That must have been one hell of a conversation."

"It sure was." And a ton of alcohol didn't hurt either.

"If Mr. Vincent is so convinced, I suppose I can't keep you from the job." Yes! "But." She said dramatically. "This is your last chance. If I get any calls from your employers your off the job, and fired from Limelight Managing. And if I get any complaints of you accusing the client I'll make sure you don't work in managing in this town again. Are we clear?" Elaine felt the bottom drop out of her stomach but she had to put on a smile anyways as if she wasn't afraid.

"Crystal."

"Good. For now, until I am assured you can handle it, Mr. Vincent will be your only client. Until you can handle him you will work with no one else. That should make it easier for you."

"Thanks…" She replied through clenched teeth.

"That will be all. Go, help your new client." She got up without a word and hurried towards the door but Janie called her back. "Elaine. I will be checking up on you, so don't slip up. I will be watching."

Elaine didn't know what to say to that, so she merely turned and left the building as quickly as possible. She left the office upset and decided she didn't want to waste money on a taxi across town. The spring whether was decent and she had worn her sneakers, in the mood for a good long walk. Of course she could use the exercise, but what she needed more was time to think.

So she walked on sadly to the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino, thinking about the months of hard work that lay ahead of her. She needed this job, she loved this job and this city, she didn't want to be pushed out of it, but she couldn't be assured Peter's huge ego and her will to live could exist in the same work space. It didn't seem to matter anymore what she wanted or how she felt. It seemed like from now on it was going to be all about Peter. No matter what she couldn't talk back to him for Janie was watching. Yet if she let Peter have his way his business would fail and she would be out of a job just the same. Today she hoped, more than ever that Peter really was that nice guy underneath the gothic clothes and shaggy beard. She needed that Peter, otherwise she could very easily imagine having to pack up and move back to California. She had spent too much time trying to make it here, she didn't think she could start from scratch again.

Much to her delight the rest of the day went much smoother. When she arrived at the Casino, Ashley greeted her friendly, very glad to have her back. She could only assume Peter had talked her up to him because he was much more accommodating than before. He had a few stacks of paperwork ready for her. Ashley was especially excited and helpful when she informed him that Peter had scheduled a meeting with her tomorrow at 9:30am.

Maybe things were looking up. She got to go home with the documents to study and had all day and night to construct a strategy of how to deal with Peter's business. Where at first she was sure she couldn't, she now thought that with a little brainpower she could manipulate him into bettering his career. She just had to be strong and stand up to him, no matter what state he was in. At least she convinced herself of this after emptying a bottle of wine and watching the Devil Wears Prada twice over as she read mindless paperwork. She could do this. She could fix him.

That was the plan anyway. She arrived at the bar where he asked to meet her fifteen minutes early. She got out her paper work and ordered a lemonade, readying herself for the battle. She was still sitting there an hour later. Two empty glasses and a half eaten plate of nachos and files strewn across the table, but still no Peter. She stood up and furiously put away her paperwork and tossed money on the table. He wasn't going to get away this easily.

She marched across the hotel and two elevator rides later she was at Ashley's little office. Like the perpetual professional he was sitting in his immaculate office, trying on his laptop. "May I help you?" He asked, not looking up from his task.

"I had a meeting with Peter this morning." She said through gritted teeth.

"Oh yeah. How'd that go? You all right? You look… angry. What did he do?" He asked shutting his laptop and finally giving her his full attention.

"He didn't show up."

"Hum…"

"I waited in that bar for a whole hour for him."

"Well, I'm not surprised. Peter's not a morning person, I don't know why he scheduled so early."

"Well, I kind of have a lot of important things to go over with him."

"No doubt."

"Could you, like, give me the number to his penthouse so I can see if he'll meet me later, or something."

"Do you one better," he said opening a desk drawer and shifting through its contents. "Peter needs straightening out, don't forget that. Don't back down. If he says he's going to do something, hold him to it. It's time somebody did. Here is the keycard to his private elevator." He said passing it to her. "I can call over to security and let them know you have clearance. Just show them your badge."

"Thanks." She said looking at the navy keycard in her hand.

"One more thing. Just remember, he doesn't mean the nasty things he says."

"I know."

"You two must have had one hell of a chat. No one else has ever come back." She smiled at this and left him to his emailing and walked back across the large hotel to Peter's penthouse. The security guard was waiting on her and tried to ring Peter but there was no answer.

"Are you sure he's here?" She asked the round man in the uniform.

"Oh yes. You can head on up if he's expecting you."

"Oh, okay." She said walking to the elevator and swiping her keycard. The panel lit up green and the golden doors slid open. She was about to get in when she remembered she had no idea where she was going. "Um, excuse me." The guard who was about to sit back down turned to her. "I've never been here before and I don't exactly know where I'm going. Could you…" The jolly man smiled kindly at her before he walked to the elevator and held the door for her.

"Head through the main room, then take a right when you get to the corridor. Then take a left and you'll be in the sitting room. You can't miss it, it has a big window which overlooks the city. Take a right off the sitting room and the first door is to his bedroom. Knock but do not enter. Good luck." She was going to ask why he was wishing her luck when he let go of the door and the automatics slid shut and the elevator began to rise.

Of course she was nervous but she pushed that aside. She just had to remember that Peter was just a pussycat on the inside. He was the good guy she had dinner with the other night, absolutely nothing to be afraid of.

Then the doors of the elevator slid open and she was taken aback by what she saw. Apparently Peter didn't like to look gothic himself, but obviously loved it as decorum. She starred down the long dark room that seemed endless and was filled with glass cases that were individually lit.

She continued to stare in awe, but the elevator was impatient and began to close upon her anyways, so she was forced to step out before it sent her back downstairs. She slowly entered the room and the elevator clicked shut behind her, trapping her in this place. Even though it was mid-day the room was incredibly dark. He might not be one, but he certainly lived like a vampire. The place looked more like a museum or mausoleum than a home.

She gazed in the cases as she passed, viewing the old weaponry and relics and began to wonder about his sanity. That or he had a really bad case of being a bachelor. No wonder he didn't have any serious girlfriends. She couldn't imagine before why he couldn't hold down just one relationship, but now she could imagine it pretty easy.

She moved on from all the frightening things and moved even faster from the room when she thought she spotted a case filled with sculls. Like the guard said she took a right at the corridor and followed it to the end and on the left was a wide open sitting room. The rest of the house should have prepared her for it; the walls decorated in hideous wallpaper and animal pelts and skulls, but it hadn't. She was just as repulsed as before, and only the view of the city did the apartment any favors.

She forgot about Peter for just a moment and went to the window and looked out at the city. The sun wasn't at its peek yet but the city was still fully lit. It was so beautiful she couldn't look away from it. She couldn't even imagine this place at night. It was too like the movies. No one actually lived like this in real life. She supposed though Peter was no ordinary person, and his apartment defiantly demonstrated that.

She supposed she could no longer put off the inevitable so turned and walked to the first room off the sitting room. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. She heard a grumbling noise from within, and she waited but nothing happened. No feet coming to answer or even any other signs of life, so she was forced to knock again. This time at least she received an audible reaction. "Fuck off!" Peter shouted from somewhere within. Part of her wanted to run off and wait until Peter was ready, then she remember the state of his life. If Peter wanted his career to thrive then Peter could no longer get his way constantly. She was his manager, which meant he did indeed want his show to be a success, and it was her job to stand up to him. She took a deep breath and thought of The Devil Wears Prada. Miranda Presley took zero bullshit, so why should she?

She closed her eyes and channeled Meryl Streep and when she opened them she felt like a completely different person. She was not herself, she was Peter Vincent's manager, God damn it! No more misses nice girl. She was a woman and she would not be pushed aside any more.

She knocked on the door forcefully and yelled, "Peter! Get up now!" She heard much more mumbling and a small ruckus from within but no one came to the door still. She had half a mind to ignore her instructions and enter anyways when finally the door opened, and there stood Peter looking a right image. That image just happened to be of a tramp and not Jude Law.

"What the fuck do you want?" Peter bitched as soon as the door opened and the smell of liquor came off him in waves and nearly overpowered her. Was it possible to get second hand drunk?

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" She asked pushing his own personality back at him. "We had a meeting over an hour ago!"

"A meeting?" He asked, scrunching up his face.

"Yes! We scheduled it two days ago. Remember?"

"No... What day is it?"

"Saturday."

"Fuck." He said rubbing his face roughly as he tried to wake up. "And you are..."

"You seriously don't remember?"

"I seriously don't remember much about the past few days, I have been really drunk. Fuck, I haven't been that drunk in a long time."

"You are ridiculous." She said beginning to march away from him. She couldn't decide if she wanted to leave or not but she didn't want to look at his half naked frame anymore that was draped in a silk robe. So instead she walked into what he might call his living room and stood looking out the large window at morning that was still shinning brightly over Vegas.

"Wait," Peter said following her but stopped and shielded his eyes as soon as he stepped foot into the room. "Fuck. What time is it?"

"10:30." She replied exasperated.

"Half ten. Jesus, I haven't been up at half ten in... ever. Fuck. Why the hell did you wake me up?"

"Because you didn't show up for the meeting you scheduled with me at 9:30 in the hotel bar."

"Why did I schedule our meeting at half nine?"

"I don't know, but apparently you were so drunk you forgot all about me and the dinner we had together so I'm really not surprised you scheduled a meeting at an apparently inconvenient time for you. Maybe I should just go," she said making a move towards the exit. She didn't know why she was getting so upset over all of this. She knew Peter was scum, why did she think he had changed. Apparently he had only made it to a level of fucked up that made him kind, that's all.

"Wait, don't go." He said reaching out and grabbing her gently by the arm, stopping her. "I'm sorry that I don't really remember what I told you, but I do know you. You're my new manager, correct?"

"Yes." She said trying to hold back the tears she had been planning to spill as soon as the elevator doors closed upon her, but now he was holding her and so she had to fight back all the emotions Peter had trod carelessly upon.

"Ellie is it?"

"Elaine."

"That's what I said. So, we were meant to have a meeting this morning?" He said rubbing his eyes trying to remove the sleep and the sun from them. She took this opportunity to wipe her eyes too and collect herself and try and retain a part of that confidence she had had moments before.

"Yes." She said in a quiet voice that trembled slightly but he still heard her.

"Well, I'm awake, lets just have the meeting now." He said yawning and scratching himself as he sauntered to the nearest chair and collapsed into it, slouching down far as he got comfortable. "Come on, let's get to it, I want to go back to bed."

"Well," she said reaching into her bag and quickly pulling out the proposal and charts she had drafted up the night before. "I went over your expenditures with a fine tooth comb and came up with a list of budget cuts we could make to save some money." She said handing the small stack of papers to him which he immediately began squinting at, showing that he was actually making an effort even though he was half asleep. "They're just ideas, and if you approve them I can draft up the real documents for you to sign and we can start to finally bail out this sinking ship." He was being very quiet as he flipped through the papers. "So what do you think?" She eventually had to ask.

"Can you get me a drink?" She couldn't describe how angry she felt with him.

As if on automatic she sauntered away and over to his enormous, ridiculous bar. She found the ice bucket and pulled out a few pieces of ice and tossed them into a tumbler angrily. She was about to reach for the nearest bottle of liquor when she noticed a few bottles of spring water sitting about. She picked one of those up instead and cracked the lid and poured it over the ice cubes.

Feeling wicked she walked back towards her boss who was still slumped in his chair squinting at the pages of text in his hand. A part of her wanted to toss the water in the sods face but something stopped her and she handed it to him silently.

He took it from her without a word and tossed a mouthful back before he did a double take and sat up straight with a look upon his face as if she had poisoned him. "What the fuck is this?"

"It's water." She said sweetly taking a seat beside him on some poor dead animals pelt. For the time being she pretended it was fake but she knew from his money and his lack of tact that it was probably real.

"Why did you bring me water? I wanted a drink."

"Water is a drink. You do drink it, or have you forgotten how to drink anything not 20 proof?"

"Bring me a real drink." He ordered, handing the glass back to her but she did not take it.

"No." She said obstinately.

"It's half ten in the morning, I need a stiff drink to deal with this meeting."

"Exactly, its half ten. And no more drinking during business meetings." She said making the decision on the spot.

"What?" He yelled and she could see the veins in his neck quivering.

"As your manager you've put me in charge of making changes in your business life that will benefit your career, and so I've got some new rules for you." He didn't answer but looked at her very angry so she continued. "I can't control your drinking habits otherwise but you will no longer be drinking at business functions of any kind, including on set."

"You expect me to do this job sober?"

"I expect you to stop drinking so that you can actually perform your job. I don't know how many complaints over the past few months I had to read last night, all concerning your inappropriate behavior, but I'm sure that all of them came down to the fact you had had too much to drink."

"I cannot sober up overnight. I've been drinking since I was fifteen."

"I'm not asking you to stop drinking, I'm asking you to stop drinking at work. At least until you can learn to control yourself."

"Yeah, this isn't going to work." He said tossing the files onto the coffee table in front of himself.

"Well, you can fire me, and the next person, and the next person until you're fired as well. It's your choice Mr. Vincent. Even though you don't remember because you drank so much you blocked it out, you did ask me to help you save your career. You can continue to change managers but until you change yourself nothing will change. I'm not asking for the moon, just lay off the heavy drinking until things start to turn around or I find an alternative. For now will you please listen to me?" He continued to look at her with fire in his eyes and she thought he was about to scream at her before pulling a Donald Trump and yelling you're fired. "Or you can fire me. I'm sick of trying. You begged me to stay and help you, if you don't want my help, I'll leave and let you get on with destroying your life."

His face softened a bit but he still didn't move. They stared into one another's eyes for a long time as if playing chicken with both of their careers. She was about to get up and just leave when his hand moved so quickly she screamed slightly and covered her face. When she looked she realized he had merely slammed his glass down on the table betwixt them, and with such ferocity that she was surprised that neither the table nor the glass had broken.

She thought she heard him mumble 'fucking bitch,' as he sat up and picked up the file from the table and slouched even further in his chair, putting his bare feet up on the table.

She couldn't help but smile to herself as he opened the file and began reading again. She decided perhaps it was best not to speak to him until he was ready to discuss business again. So she sat back in the chair forgetting her qualms with it and getting comfortable. She stared at his face that was scrunched in both anger and concentration and couldn't help but think he looked beautiful, even when lividly angry with her. She knew she shouldn't think so, but it was true, he was devastatingly handsome.

They sat in silence for a long time as he looked over the paperwork. She did have plenty of ideas to discuss with him, but she thought it might be best if they just tackled one thing at a time. "Can I have a pen?" He asked her after about five minutes.

"Sure." She said reaching into her bag and pulling one out for him. He took it hastily from her and pulled the cap off with his teeth and began scribbling on the paper. She felt like suggesting it would be easier for him to write on the coffee table, but why disturb him? He was actually working. It was 10:30 in the morning and Peter Vincent was actually working.

She felt so proud of herself she forgot where she was and actually leaned back in her chair and watched him work, and after awhile he forgot his anger too and slowly began drinking his water.


End file.
